Love is Not a Victory March
by Dicta Licence
Summary: Elsa. Anna. Catholic schoolgirl hijinks. Elsa did a bad, bad thing and daddy's sent her off to boarding school to think about what she's done. Anna lends a helping hand.


I remember when I moved in you  
And the holy dove she was moving too,  
And every single breath that we drew was  
_Hallelujah_.

Leonard Cohen, _Hallelujah_

* * *

She's fucking sick and tired of being a good girl.

This endless routine of atoning for imagined guilt and drawn out prayers. Slogging through a daily routine of academics and bible thumping rhetoric, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. The A student. Captain of the lacrosse team. Probable Valedictorian. Incoming President of the Student Body Council.

All the while she pretended to be somebody else.

It wasn't a surprise that she was summoned up to Mother Superior's office. No, it wasn't a surprise at all. It was only a matter of time before they found out what she'd been up to last summer. Sex, cigarettes, and alcohol were the least of her crimes.

Well, they could all hang.

She slipped in through the side entrance, the one hidden behind a bookcase – where only the favoured few could pass. Mother Superior would have a stroke if she knew what Anna had been doing for the better part of the last two months.

What surprised her was that she wasn't alone.

A student was waiting for her, platinum blonde hair in a thick French braid, a soft looking fringe with an Alice band keeping the rest of it from falling over her perfectly sculpted face.

Well, well, well. Elsa Arendelle herself. Little Miss Goody Two Shoes. Her childhood nemesis. The one with a reputation as pure and white as snow. The golden child. She who could do no wrong.

That squeaky clean reputation was looking a little tarnished these days, though.

Rumour up North was that she'd done a bad, bad, thing and daddy was shipping her off to _Catholic_ boarding school - where the daily threat of damnation was supposed to help get her head on straight. Don't shame the family name and other puritanical crap like it.

Anna did not expect it to be hers.

So here she was, staring at little Miss Perfection herself. Elsa Arendelle was seated there in front of Mother Superior's desk, already impeccably dressed in the drab greys and blues of St. Theresa's uniform. Her head was bowed and she fidgeted with the folds of her barely knee-length skirt. That was most certainly not regulation. Anna was damned if Elsa didn't somehow manage to make pleats and Mary Janes look deliciously sinful. Knee socks should be banned if Elsa insisted on looking like that in them.

Anna cleared her throat, letting the other girl know she was there. The other girl started, blue eyes wide with surprise. She could see the blonde's throat working as she swallowed, muscles moving underneath the buttoned collar of her starched white oxford, underneath the perfect Windsor knot of her silver and navy tie. Anna wanted to run her tongue along the column of her slender, white throat. Trace the outline of the muscle that connected her collarbone to her jaw. _Sterno-cleido-mastoid_. What little she remembered from Biology class surfaced now, to help her catalogue all the places on Elsa Arendelle's body she wished to taste.

_Eyes up now, eyes up. _It won't do her any good to look at those long, long legs. Imagine them wrapped around her hips as their owner writhed about in complete abandon, too far gone with lust to care.

Anna had to pretend the thought didn't make her embarrassingly wet. She smiled and made herself look into those guileless blue eyes, and walking slowly to take the seat across from Elsa's. Legs crossed, one thigh over the other. Hands clasped over a knee as she stared Elsa Arendelle down, unblinking.

Creak of the side door as Mother Superior entered, voice tremulous and throaty as old people's voices tend to be. She made introductions, hands were shook and Anna pretended the spark she felt when their fingertips touched was from static. They were wearing leather shoes on thick carpet, after all. Pretended that she didn't notice the tremor that ran through Elsa's forearm when Anna held on for a second longer than was necessary.

'You'll show Elsa around, won't you, Anna dear?' Mother Superior was saying, and Anna heard her voice answer as if from far away.

'Of course, Mother Superior. It would be my pleasure.'

Pretend that she didn't notice the hitch in Elsa's breathing when she said the words: _my pleasure._

Anna looked away. Didn't dare look again into Elsa's eyes as they were waved out of the office and she was instructed to take Elsa to her room.

Silence as they walked through the dark, wood-panelled halls. The quiet of the late afternoon oppressive and thick enough that Anna could taste it in the back of her throat. She watched the fading sunlight play across the blonde's platinum locks, watched the golden rays bounce off it as they walked past windows and disappear into gray nothingness when they walked through areas of shade.

They trooped up the stairs to the third floor, passing busts of philosophers and heads of state; laurel crowns and empty eyes staring blankly into nothingness, keeping secret all that they had seen and would see. Elsa's long fingers gliding up the polished hardwood banister, Anna imagining those same fingers gliding up her thigh. She had to grit her teeth at the feeling of wetness that soaked her panties through.

Only a few more meters to Elsa's room, their steps muffled by the thick carpet. They could hear the thump of foot traffic above, hear murmurs of the other students as they rushed from class to prepare themselves for dinner.

The isolation is an illusion. They weren't alone. They were never alone.

In Elsa's room now and they looked at each other quietly, warily. A single bed in the center of this generously appointed room. A far cry from Anna and Belle's quarters. No provisions for a roommate. Everything about this said single occupant. Apparently papa Arendelle's money and influence could reach this far.

Anna was uncertain of what to do next. Whether to stay or make her excuses.

Surprisingly, it was the blonde who moved first, taking a step forward and seizing Anna by the tie to haul the redhead's body against hers. They were of nearly similar height and Anna was grateful as she only had to tilt her head at the slightest of angles before their lips were locked together, moving slowly in a kiss she knew all other subsequent kisses would be judged by.

The next thing she knew she was spun around and pressed against a door, the edge of the etched design digging into her back. Elsa's fingers were in her hair, gently cupping the back of her head, tugging at the ties of her pigtails loose, running her fingers through the newly-freed waves and Anna was lost. Opening her mouth, she leaned into the kiss, a tentative tongue reaching out to lick at the other girl's lower lip. Elsa growled and slanted her mouth across Anna's, a clash of lips and teeth making this a kiss more of want than finesse.

Anna could not bring herself to care. Not as long as those clever fingers kept inching their way up her thigh to rub at where she needed pressure the most. Not as long as Elsa kept kissing her like that, touching her like that, and Anna had to get away from this door. Get them both horizontal before they ended up taking each other on the waxed wooden floor.

She pushed the other girl away and they looked at each other, breathing heavily. Eyes hot, lips wet and kiss swollen, Elsa was the most debauched thing she had ever seen. Anna tugged her tie loose, shrugged off her blazer, and stopped Elsa from doing the same. This was a thing she wanted to savour herself.

She moved to lay Elsa down still fully dressed on top of the thick coverlet of her four poster bed, unbutton that beautifully tailored dark blue blazer. Straddling the other girl even as she felt Elsa's fingers tug her shirt free from the confines of her skirt, felt cold fingers brush across her belly towards her breasts. Stifled a gasp at the feel of those cool digits tweaking a hot nipple underneath the lace of her brassiere.

Anna felt her control snap. She stripped off her charcoal grey vest, yanked her tie over her head, and flung it into a corner. She watched Elsa's breathing become more shallow as tugged the top two buttons of her shirt loose. Elsa reached underneath the redhead's skirt, urged Anna to lift up as she tugged blue lace panties free and threw it to join their owner's tie in the same corner. The feel of Elsa's long, cool fingers stroking through her wetness, dipping into her folds and circling the nub of nerves that had Anna stifling a scream, holding on to the headboard to keep from falling over. Those same fingers plunging into her as a thumb circled her clit in a relentless rhythm that soon had her legs trembling and her seeing stars. Calling out for Jesus and all the saints as the world narrowed down into a pinpoint of intense pleasure, exploding outwards until she was gasping for air, certain she would die if it went on, die if it stopped.

She slumped over Elsa, breathing heavily, riding the waves of aftershocks that had her extremities twitching, pleasantly numb. Elsa let out a smug laugh and shoved Anna off. They lay in companionable silence side by side. They were still mostly dressed save for a few of Anna's articles of clothing - most notably her panties.

They hadn't even bothered to take their shoes off.

Anna stared up at the crucifix on the wall across, where the effigy of a man dead more than two thousand years looked down upon them, whether in benediction or condemnation, she would never know.

"I don't suppose your father ever found out that I was the girl you were sneaking around with in Corona, did he," asked Anna lying on her back and staring at the canopy overhead.

Elsa's lips twitched upwards with a satisfied, heated smirk, as she stretched out and rolled over onto her belly to look at Anna. She ran her hand idly down Anna's side. "Do you really think I'd be here if he knew?"

Anna couldn't speak, couldn't believe her good fortune.

"Now come on, Anna. It's my turn. You own me one." The blonde sat up, removed her hopelessly rumpled blazer, and tugged her vest off. She was working her shirt buttons free, much to Anna's delight.

Anna smiled. Perhaps there was a God, after all.

* * *

A/N: a gift for the awesome Yumi Michiyo, who shall be going to hell in a hand basket for even giving me the idea for this.

the Jeff Buckley version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah sets the tone and mood of this story.

Tumblr: apocketfulofwry


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